


Dingle

by wheel_pen



Series: Viridian Miranda [3]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fish out of Water, Gen, Imprinting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-12
Updated: 2013-04-12
Packaged: 2017-12-08 07:43:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/758838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malcolm buys Miranda a bell as a souvenir from a trip and she insists upon wearing it at all times. And it’s slowly… driving… Trip… crazy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dingle

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Viridians appear human, but are actually aliens who imprint on other people (Viridian or otherwise) and form a bond with them. They also live their entire life cycle in about six Earth years.
> 
> 2\. In each series, a different character is a Viridian, who was raised by mean Klingons on an outpost. An Enterprise crewmember is captured by the Klingons and they inadvertently form a bond with the Viridian, who helps them escape. Then they return to rescue the Viridian and bring them aboard the Enterprise. The Viridian homeworld is contacted and the Enterprise crew learn the Viridian will most likely die if they are sent away. So they end up staying on the Enterprise, and the crewmember has to adjust.
> 
> 3\. The bad words are censored. That’s just how I do things.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this AU. I own nothing and appreciate the chance to play in this universe.

"This place is incredible!" Hoshi enthused, still staring at her data pad so intently she nearly walked into a market stall. "I've gotten samples of _so_ many new languages—"

"Did you get to try any of the food?" Travis insisted. "I had this one dish, it was kind of like barbecued meat, covered in chocolate. Sounds gross, I know, but actually—"

"I was too busy pickin' up souvenirs," Trip informed them, hefting the bag over his shoulder. "Contributing to the local economy. Seems like half the crew was beggin' me to get something for them to give to someone else." He turned towards the fourth member of the landing party, thus far silent. "How about you, Malcolm? See any shiny weapons you liked?"

The others smirked a little but Reed evaluated the comment seriously. "Unfortunately their level of technology is not sufficient to produce anything unique," he replied. "Although, I _did_ see a demonstration of a sort of hand-to-hand combat technique that was quite intriguing..."

Lost in thought trying to recall the details of it, Malcolm collided with the bag bouncing against Trip's back. "Watch out there," the engineer warned cheerfully. "Say, what'd you get for Miranda? Not another knife, I—"

"Bloody h—l," sighed Malcolm, stopping in his tracks.

The others turned to stare at him. "You didn't get her anything?" Hoshi probed, slightly aghast.

"She practically _dragged_ me out of the shuttle trying to take my place," Travis reminded him indignantly.

"And you _promised_ to bring her something since she didn't get to go herself," Trip needled.

"Well, I forgot," Malcolm told them defensively. He looked at the bag Trip carried. "I don't suppose you could—"

"Forget it," Trip said immediately. "Every one of these doodads has a name tag on it."

Rolling his eyes, Malcolm started glancing around the market. They were at the far end, just about to leave for the shuttle deck, and with the sun setting half the stalls had already been shut up. "We're gonna be late," Trip pointed out, not because he himself cared, but because he knew it would bother Malcolm even more.

The Tactical Officer glared at him. "Just give me a minute." Randomly Malcolm headed over to the nearest stall, which appeared to sell beads, ribbons, and other trimmings for clothing, or perhaps hair. Grabbing almost literally the first item within reach, Reed paid for it with the smallest piece of local coinage he carried, and still received an entire handful of yet smaller coins in change. Slightly smug, he rejoined the others in under two minutes.

"So what did you get?" Hoshi asked dubiously.

Malcolm dangled the item from two fingers and shook it gently. It was a bell—it kind of reminded Trip of a jingle bell, actually, a metal sphere with something inside it that chimed, all strung on a bit of cord. "You are _so_ cheap," Trip told him, shaking his head in disgust.

Malcolm glared at him, then turned to the others, but Hoshi rolled her eyes and Travis just shrugged, unable to be of assistance. "She's going to _love_ it," he told them. "You'll see."

Miranda was waiting at the Launch Bay for the return of the shuttlepod, along with Captain Archer. The enthusiastic reports of Trip, Hoshi, and Travis to the Captain were momentarily drowned out by a squeal of euphoria, followed by a pleasant jingle that became more and more annoying as it was repeated.

"It's _beautiful_ ," Miranda breathed, shaking the bell incessantly.

"Just for you," Reed told her grandly, giving the others a self-satisfied look over her head.

" _Cheapskate_ ," Trip mouthed to him.

 

_Dingle. Dingle_.

Trip glanced up from his fried cod and noticed the bell Malcolm had bought Miranda was now tied around her wrist by its cord. It made a little jingling noise every time she moved her arm, which was fairly often as she was eating some kind of mushy-looking stew.

"Nice bell you got there," Trip commented, trying to be friendly. Miranda looked up at him as though she had forgotten he was at the table. Sometimes Trip thought that Malcolm was the only person on _Enterprise_ who really existed for her.

"Thank you," she said, after a long moment, in entirely the wrong tone. Still, it was an effort, he supposed.

"Um, where'd you get it?" Trip knew the answer, of course, as he had been on the same landing party with Malcolm, but he doubted she would remember that.

"Malcolm got it for me," Miranda informed him, with a hushed and reverent voice Trip imagined pilgrims used when viewing holy relics.

Trip glanced at the Tactical Officer, who sat beside Miranda at the table and across from Trip, but as usual Reed was completely absorbed in whatever report he was reading. Miranda nudged his elbow a little bit and Trip opened his mouth to make some smart remark about the bell; but instead of looking up at the others around the table, Malcolm absently lifted a spoonful of stew to his mouth and continued gazing at the data pad. Expecting Miranda to be crestfallen, Trip turned back to her, but instead she seemed completely satisfied. A few moments later, after careful observation, she nudged his elbow again, and again he ate some dinner without looking up. At that point Trip smothered a grin with his hand and tried to focus on his own meal; he realized she was reminding Malcolm to actually _eat_ , a necessity he tended to forget sometimes.

 

_Dingle. Dingle._

At first Trip tried to pinpoint what element in Engineering made that kind of a delicate tinkling sound. Then he turned around and saw Miranda standing expectantly beside him, the bell on her wrist jangling as she held out a phase coupler.

"It's broken," she reported stiffly.

"Really," Trip replied, unsure of what else to say, as he took the item from her.

"I didn't break it," Miranda assured him quickly.

"I didn't think you did," he hurriedly told her.

"Malcolm wants it fixed."

Trip avoided rolling his eyes at the obvious statement. "Well, that's what we're here for," he said cheerfully. She didn't smile. "Um, next time though," he added carefully, "if you want to just give it to Ensign Rogers or Ramirez or—"

"Who?" Miranda interrupted, in a tone that indicated she had no intention of actually learning who these people were.

"Never mind," Trip sighed. "Tell Malcolm, we'll get it fixed as soon as we can."

Miranda nodded once and left, the little bell jingling all the way.

 

"Hey, Malcolm, wait up!" Trip called, jogging down the hallway.

Lt. Reed glanced back, then paused for his friend. "Commander."

"I was thinking of showing _Night of the Killer Androids_ at Movie Night tomorrow," Trip told him gleefully, a grin splitting his face. "What do you think?"

Malcolm grimaced. "Again? There are fifty thousand movies in the database. Can't you pick anything better?"

"Oh, come on," Trip chided playfully. "A good scary movie, lights down, cute ensign sittin' next to you practically _jumping_ into your arms when the androids attack..."

Malcolm thought it over. "Well, you do have a point," he conceded.

_Dingle. Dingle._

Trip was beginning to think this sound was the motif for his own private horror movie.

Miranda appeared around the corner, her posture completely changing when she saw that Malcolm wasn't alone. She sidled up next to him without a word and regarded Trip warily.

"Um, hi, Miranda," he greeted pleasantly.

"Hello, Commander Tucker," she choked out. Malcolm gave her a look of approval, due to the fact that he didn't have to prompt her to speak.

"Movie Night tomorrow," Trip reminded her conversationally. "Do you like scary movies?"

Miranda blinked at him. Trip quailed under her gaze as though he had asked something phenomenally stupid. "I like them if they're inventive in their violence or feature clever traps," she replied after a long moment.

Malcolm rolled his eyes. "That's what _I_ like," he pointed out. "You've never seen one." Miranda sniffed, unchastised, and played with her bracelet.

Whatever thoughts Trip had in his head for continuing the conversation were driven out by the relentless sound of the bell. After several false starts and premature stops he finally said to Malcolm, as tactfully as he could, "I guess Miranda can't sneak up on you anymore, with that bell."

Malcolm frowned at him, then glanced at the girl. She swayed the chime even more for emphasis. Trip thought his head might explode. "Oh, I hadn't noticed it," Reed commented.

 

_Dingle. Dingle._

Not even his office was safe, Trip thought, before glancing up at his desk. Miranda stood in the doorway. "What can I do for you?" he asked, a bit shortly. Not that she would notice.

"The comm system isn't working in the Armory."

Trip sighed heavily. "Yeah, it's that d—n J12 relay, the new connectors we installed just aren't aligned properly, they keep causing shorts—" He stopped talking, knowing Miranda didn't care. "Um, just ask Ensign Abijou to take a look at it." He turned back to his mountain of paperwork, hoping against hope that she would get the hint.

She didn't. The bell chimed as she twitched her hand. "Malcolm said to tell _you_."

"And _I'm_ telling you, to tell Ensign Abijou," Trip shot back, trying to keep his temper in check. Something about the harmonics of that jingle, he decided. It messed up his brainwaves or something.

"I don't know who that is."

Trip gritted his teeth. "Miranda, I'm really busy right now, okay?" She was unimpressed by the stacks of data pads and half-repaired equipment laid out before him. "I don't have time to go mess with a relay. There's a whole Engineering staff out there, ask one of them."

The bell dingled even more when she was irritated. Trip envisioned himself ripping it from her wrist and flattening it with a quantum press. "I don't know any of them."

"They aren't going to bite," he told her tightly, with him as a possible exception.

He tried to turn his back on her and ignore her. It was, however, impossible. He could feel her stare boring into his back, and the d—n bell kept chirping, arrhythmic, boring into his brain.

"Okay, fine!" Trip shouted suddenly, jumping to his feet. Miranda did not seem the least bit surprised. He grabbed his toolbox. "I'll go fix the d—n relay!"

"Thanks," she replied flatly, then turned and left. His ears seemed to follow the jingling of the bell all the way out the door.

 

_Dingle. Dingle._

Trip nearly stumbled off the treadmill, startled by the delicate sound that seemed to resonate throughout the Rec Room and focus directly in on his ears. Couldn't a man even get a work-out in peace anymore? He scanned the room for the source of the sonic irritation and saw Miranda on a mat at the far end, beating the c--p out of some helpless Security officer. Malcolm strutted back and forth across the end of the mat, peering at them judgmentally and offering keen suggestions such as, "Pull your punches more, Miranda!" and "Nice block, Ensign." 

Trip thought it was odd Malcolm would let Miranda spar with her bracelet on, but he could imagine the petite blond blinking up at the Tactical Officer and refusing to part with her prized possession. Almost against his will, decrying himself for his apparently insatiable appetite for punishment, Trip wandered closer to the mat, the jingling growing more and more piercing as he approached. 

"Hey, Malcolm," he greeted, trying to sound casual as he watched Miranda fling the Security ensign brutally to the ground. "How's it going?" 

Malcolm stared intently at the sparring women. "I'm thinking of upgrading the Security training program. Do you think the Captain would give me the Rec Room for another couple of shifts each week?" 

Trip gave him a slightly dubious look. "Don't you already have your people in here three nights a week beating each other up?" 

"Yes, but just _look_ at Ensign Morales," Reed pointed out, disgust evident. The ensign was struggling to her feet yet again, staggering just a bit. "Keep your arms up!" Reed shouted to her, then glanced back at Trip. "She's my best officer when it comes to self-defense. But she's getting her a-s handed to her by Miranda." Trip winced as Ensign Morales took a punch to the gut that didn't look all that pulled to _him_. 

"You know, Miranda _is_ kinda freaky, though, Malcolm," Trip reminded him, and Reed gave him a sudden sharp look. "Well, she _is_!" the engineer protested. "I mean, do you _really_ want all your Security people to be humorless, bell-obsessed fighting machines?" 

The look Reed gave him suggested he wouldn't mind that very much at all. "Did you say 'bell-obsessed'?" he repeated, slightly confused. 

"Yeah, you know, she wears that chime thing you gave her _all_ the time," Trip explained. "That jingling drives me crazy. I could hear it all the way across the room." Now that the two women on the mat had paused for a few moments--Ensign Morales had insisted upon being able to breathe first or something--Trip was squinting at Miranda's hands, looking for the bracelet. 

Suddenly the dingling began again, right near his ear, and Trip yelped and jumped back, drawing stares from other people in the room. Malcolm smirked a little and revealed the bell he was holding, which had apparently been clasped in his hand the whole time. "Are you sure _she's_ the obsessed one?" he asked dryly. 

 

_Dingle. Dingle._

Trip jerked his head up suddenly from the data pad he was perusing, but the hallway was empty. He spun around but still saw no one. For a moment he thought he might actually have snapped. Then he heard the dreaded noise again and _knew_ he had. 

_Stay calm_ , Trip urged himself. He was just going to get out of this deserted hall to someplace where there were more people... possibly people of a medical nature... 

_Dingle. Dingle._

_Dingle. Dingle._

The sound seemed to follow him, its bearer stalking him invisibly through the corridors. At last Trip spotted another person, a lieutenant from the Astrophysics department. "Do you hear that?" he demanded of the man, who queried in confusion, "Sir?" before Trip shook his head and sped off. 

The sound was all around him, everywhere, echoing off the deck plating, the walls, the ceilings--Trip frowned and tried to concentrate as he stared upwards, a slightly more rational idea forming. Or it could be even crazier, he just wasn't sure at this point. Jumping a little to reach it, Trip yanked on the handle of an access hatch and pulled it open. Miranda stared back at him, apparently surprised to be discovered. 

"What the h--l are you doing in the ventilation shaft?!" Trip snapped at her. The good news was, he wasn't crazy; the bad news was, she _did_ appear to be stalking him. 

"I'm looking for my ball," she informed him flatly, as if it were really none of his business anyway. 

"Um--what?" he stammered. 

"Malcolm hid my ball in the ventilation system," Miranda clarified. "I'm looking for it." 

Trip blinked for a moment, processing this information, then unzipped one of the pockets on his uniform and pulled a small red sphere out. Miranda frowned at him severely, then before Trip could offer to assist her she squirmed out of the ventilation shaft and dropped to her feet before him. "That's mine," she told him accusingly, holding out her hand for it. 

"Well take it then!" he insisted, exasperated, putting it in her palm. Her bracelet chimed a disgruntled tune. "One of my crew found it while repairing an air duct on E deck. Tell Malcolm to be a little more careful where he leaves his toys." 

 

_Dingle. Dingle._

"Would you stop ringing that g-----n bell!?" Trip snapped, spinning around from the console.

To face a rather startled-looking Captain Archer.

Holding a jingle bell on a cord.

"Oh, um... Sorry, sir," Trip added sheepishly, heaving a sigh. "I thought you were Miranda."

"People get us mixed up all the time," Archer informed him dryly.

"I mean, she always wears that bell thing Malcolm got her, and it drives me up the wall!" Trip explained. "Dingle, dingle, dingle! All frickin' day! And Malcolm says, he doesn't even notice it, but he's gotta be lying, because that _sound_ is just..." Trip suddenly realized he was rambling, and that the Captain's eyes were getting larger and larger. Hurriedly he shut himself up before Archer decided to put him on medical leave. "Um... where'd you get it?"

"I found it on the floor over there," Archer told him, sounding perfectly reasonable, the exact opposite of Trip. "I thought it might belong to someone here. But if it's Miranda's, I'll just take it to her."

"Yeah, great," Trip muttered. "You couldn't accidentally toss it out an airlock on the way, could you?" Archer gave him a strange look and turned away.

As soon as he was out of Trip's sight on the other side of the engine, however, Archer broke into a wide grin. "Great idea," he snickered, handing the bell back to Malcolm, who was lurking in the shadows. "I thought he was really going to flip out."

"We endeavor to give satisfaction, sir," Malcolm replied with a smirk. A small, pale hand reached out towards the bell Malcolm held and he pulled it playfully out of her grasp. Miranda stared at it longingly and reached again, mesmerized by the glint of light off the metal and the sound of the jingle.

"She does seem kind of... fixated on it," Archer remarked after a moment, slightly unsettled all of a sudden.

Malcolm finally let her have the bell back. "I'm sure Porthos has favorite toys, doesn't he, sir?" he pointed out. The comparison did little to comfort Archer, who merely shook his head and left Engineering, trying to focus on the positive... like messing with his Chief Engineer's head again.

 

_Dingle. Jangle._

Trip looked up suddenly at the new sound combination and turned to see Miranda once again planted in Engineering, holding out one of the anti-grav spheres used for target practice. In addition to the small silver chime on one wrist, there was now a slightly larger, more traditionally bell-shaped object tied to her other arm, golden and etched with alien symbols. Trip rolled his eyes when he realized Malcolm must have brought it back for her from the last planet they visited.

Miranda jingled her bells even harder, drawing Trip's focus back. "It's broken," she reported, giving him the target sphere.

"Yeah, I can see that," he shrugged. "Ramirez!" He tossed the object to the ensign who looked up. "Fix this." Miranda had walked right past her on her way to find Trip. He turned back to the petite blond and gave her a hard stare. "Did _you_ break it?"

"No!" she assured him defensively.

"I'll bet," Trip replied, unconvinced. Since Miranda didn't seem very friendly no matter what he did, Trip had decided he might as well try to have a little fun with it. He nodded at her hands. "Got a new toy, huh."

She shook the new golden bell. "Malcolm got it for me," she told him, gazing at the object with utter adoration. "From the planet." As if there were only one planet in the universe. _Planet Malcolm_ , Trip thought sarcastically.

"Cute," the engineer told her dryly. "Anything else I can do for you?"

"No." With that she turned and left, although not without a backwards glance at Trip. Suspicious though the look was, he had to admit that was just about the only time she'd ever paid attention to him when she didn't have to.


End file.
